All in a Day's Work
by Elven-Fforestydd
Summary: King Aragorn is recruited into helping a boy look for his lost dog.


The bells in the center of the city chimed to tell the inhabitants of the White City that the morning had ended. Aragon sighed with relief as the ringing sound drifted in through the open window in the palace. He stood up to address the group of men that sat around the table.

"Gentlemen, we will have a short recess and reconvene after lunch." There were murmurs and nods of agreement as they men rose and made their way out of the room. Aragorn sank into his chair and turned to his steward.

"Why must diplomatic discussions be so dull?" Asked Aragorn. Faramir smiled.

"But it would take all the fun out of it if anything exciting happened."

" I'm glad someone was enjoying himself." Aragorn rose from his chair and moved to the door. "I think I'll take a walk, would you care to join me?"

"No thank you, I think I'll have lunch with Éowyn."

"Just admit it. You hate to pass up lunch," said Aragorn. Faramir grinned.

"I seem to be a hobbit at heart. Now get a move on before they decide to skip lunch." As soon as Aragorn closed the door behind him he stared to trot. It would undignified to run but he needed to get outside and away from all the diplomatic discussion. On his way he stopped by his rooms and replaced his official state shirt with something more practical. A simple cotton shirt, like the ones he used to wear.

The outside air greeted him with warmth and sunshine. Aragorn inhaled deeply, relishing the afternoon air. Diplomats from Rhun had arrived during the last week and since then his time had been taken up with endless talks. Aragorn decided to walk along some of the streets; they were relatively empty as most people were having lunch. He nodded politely to the few that were still out. They bowed or curtsied before hurrying off. As he turned on to a side street he was almost pushed over by an object running full force into him. A small boy hit him then stepped backwards, dazed.

"Whoa, there little man, why the hurry?" Aragorn asked righting himself then helping the boy back to his feet.

"Sorry Sir. I was looking for Ralen."

"Who is Ralen?"

"He's my dog Sir. He ran off this morning and I can't find him. Mother says I have to find 'im or else. But I've looked everywhere." Said the boy. He stared to cry. Aragorn looked at him with sympathy. The boy had to be only five years old.

"There, there, don't cry." Aragorn said getting down on eye level with the boy. "I'll help you look." Aragorn said before he could stop him self.

"You will?" Asked the boy, his wet blue eyes growing big.

"Sure." Replied Aragorn ignoring his Steward's voice in the back of his head. It could be fun. Tracking an animal was something Aragorn hadn't done for awhile. "Where shall we look first?"

"Ohh!" said the boy, suddenly full of energy. "He really likes it by the stables."

"Very well then lets go look over by the stables." The boy took off at a run dragging Aragorn by the hand. When they got to the stables the boy started crawling along the floor and looking under the stales. When he saw that Aragorn was still standing he said,

"You have to look for him. He doesn't answer to his name yet." Aragorn sighed. So much for a peaceful walk, he thought. Looking around to make sure no one was watching he knelt on the floor and looked under a stall. The feet of a horse greeted him. Seeing no horse he crawled over to the next one. They continued along the length of the stable until Aragorn was covered in dirt and grime and each stall had been searched. The boy then took off towards a rubbish dump that was a few streets away. Once there he proceeded in searching under and through the stuff. Aragorn found him self-being pulled into knee-deep trash. His breeches acquired a large brown stain. He spent the next hour or so darting from place to place looking for a dog he hadn't clue what looked like. They tried looking around the backs of shops, the sleeve of Aragorn's shirt ripped while he was free himself from a fallen pile of scrap wood, crawled inside of various tunnels and sewers and even tried the backstage of one of the many theaters. By the time they had finished looking behind all the ornamental shrubs and thorns Aragorn, now covered with leaves and scratches, had had enough excitement. At the beginning the whole thing had be fun, a look back on his old days. But now it was just torment. Finally the boy came to a stop and plopped onto the ground. Aragorn gratefully sat down beside him, his clothes and face a utter mess.

"It's no use. He's gone," said the boy. He looked as if he was going to cry again. Aragorn truly felt sorry for him, even though he was tired of plunging headfirst in to grime.

"Maybe he is back at your home," said Aragorn.

"You think so?" asked the boy.

"Animals usually go to where they know there is food."

"Well then, lets hurry." The boy jumped up and tried pull Aragorn up. Aragorn laughed.

"Must I come with you?"

"Yes, I want Ralen to meet you," he said starting to run down a street. Aragorn followed after laughing slightly at the innocence of the young. The boy's house was a small stone house in a row of stone houses that looked alike. The boy threw open the door when he arrived.

"There you are," came a woman's voice from inside. "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry Ma, I was looking for Ralen" he said dragging Aragorn in beside him. The house was small but homely. The woman stood with her hands on her hips, a spoon in her hand. Aragorn pulled his hand out of the boy's.

"Excuse me Ma'am, but your boy was looking for his dog and I was helping. It would be my fault he was gone so long." The woman glared at him. She obviously didn't recognize him under all his dirt. She turned back to the boy. "Well, your dog came back and you're late for you lunch. Go wash your hands and come back here." The boy scurried off as the woman turned back to Aragorn.

"Thank you" she said. "He tends to get lost in the streets."

"It was no problem," he replied. She said, "Would you please stay for lunch?"

"I can't, ma'am. I wouldn't want to intrude."

"I insist," she said. "It's the least I can do to thank you." Aragon looked at the table. There was a simple meat pie, steaming, fresh from the oven. He then thought of the diplomats that were going to start waiting for him soon if he didn't hurry up and the horrible stuffy lunch he was expected to participate in. The pie seemed slightly more appetizing. Turning to the woman he said,

"Sure. I'd love to stay."

The End


End file.
